The Silver-haired Adventurers
by Lancelotlaureate
Summary: The Doctor was expecting Clara through the doors, not an old man he hadn't seen for the longest time.


The slender, silver-haired adventurer stood silently at his blackboard, staring at the blank space, chalk in hand- ready to write down all the thoughts that were hiding inside his big cluttered brain. He raised his long fingers to the board. The chalk dust sprinkled onto his lapel as he twiddled the chalk between his thumb and forefinger, and he stared at the blackness of the board as though the blank surface were the universe, as though the nothingness of what was in front of him represented all he had yet to see and work out. He grumbled and leaned heavily against the pointing stick he was using to rest upon.

A moment later there was the sound of the door opening but he didn't turn, knowing Clara was due to arrive at any time. He sensed movement behind him and saw a shadow of life. Finally he turned, but instead of the young woman he was used to seeing in the TARDIS, he saw an old gentleman standing by the console. The man's long wispy white hair seemed brighter against the warm colours of the TARDIS systems.

The Doctor stared at the man, open-mouthed, and let his pointer stick fall to the floor with a crash against the metal. "You're not Clara?"

The man fumbled with his words. "No, well…I'm not, no. Doctor is that really you?"

The Doctor slowly moved toward the man, walking carefully and quietly. The old man stiffened as he saw the Doctor closely examining him as though he were under a microscope. The Doctor's eyes widened, so widely that they were frightening. But with the terror of the eyes, there was also wisdom and a thousand other emotions. The old man tried to speak but the Doctor hushed him as he stared deeper, his face only inches away from the intruder in his TARDIS.

"Taylor! No, Benson, Benton, no…Chesterton!"

The old man smiled. "Yes Doctor, it's me, it's Ian."

The Doctor's eyes showed a slight sense of wonder and then a smile emerged before it disappeared again. "But you're not Clara?"

"No, I'm not. I know I wasn't exactly what you were expecting but when I saw the TARDIS I just had to see if you were here."

"You're lucky I didn't instinctively put the ship into flight."

"You mean kidnap me for a second time? No, you're right, I wouldn't much like that. Besides, I might not be able to get home again, right Doctor?"

The Doctor stepped back a pace and threw his arms in the air. "Wrong! I don't have those sorts of problems anymore. That was maybe a thousand or so years ago. I was a bit of an amateur back then, making it all up as I went along. Well I do that now I suppose, but then I didn't have a clue what I was doing in the TARDIS."

"You always pretended you did."

"Youthful arrogance Chesterton. The years have somewhat graced me with a softer, kinder interior."

"You or the TARDIS?"

The Doctor laughed. "One and the same isn't it?"

Ian smiled and placed his hand gently on the control panel, carefully examining the little buttons that adorned the console. There were many more gadgets and gizmos than he was used to, but Ian felt fascinated by the intricate details of the switches and levers. He was about to pull one of the levers when he felt the slap of the Doctor's hand on his own.

"Hands, Chesterton!"

Ian laughed. "You look different but you haven't changed have you? I thought you may have mellowed with age."

"Who told you that?" the Doctor asked, staring at him intensely. Ian shuddered. Something about the new Doctor made him a little unsettled.

Ian ignored the question and stared around the ship. He narrowed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry but this lighting is all wrong for me, at my age I need whiteness and brightness. And what happened to the round things on the walls?"

The Doctor sighed with exasperation. "They were too…round. Oh I don't know- that was a long time ago. They probably got swallowed up by the time vortex or something. Don't you like my TARDIS?"

Ian scratched his chin. "It's not bad, I mean I preferred the one I travelled in, more minimalist, just as I like it, less dusting and more space. Besides, this one isn't very user friendly. Stairs? How am I supposed to get up them with my knees?"

"Who said you were invited up my stairs?"

Ian frowned. "Well if that's how you feel, I'll go up them just to spite you." He moved his aged body as fast as he could and started for the staircase. He walked gently one step at a time. As he did so, the Doctor followed him.

"Have you quite finished?" the Doctor said as he steadied Ian at the top of the staircase. "You made your point, stairs aren't best for everyone. I fully apologise for the inconvenience. Now would you kindly get down?"

Ian ignored the Doctor and began walking a few paces along the walkway until he reached the empty blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge and began scribbling his name across the board. The Doctor was behind him immediately, looking at him with confusion.

He read aloud what Ian had written. "Mr Chesterton, science? Oh yes, you taught the subject at the school Clara works at. I thought we may run into each other at some point." He grabbed a blackboard eraser and swiftly rubbed off Ian's writing, looking back at Ian with mild irritation.

Ian looked sadly at the Doctor. "But you didn't try and say hello? Just a hello, Doctor, not too much to ask is it?"

The Doctor's eyes watered, but he remained upright, almost unwilling to react to Ian's words. He hesitated and then smiled. "Didn't want to bother you. You have a busy life from what I hear. Married Barbara, had kids, all that professor-ing. You don't need me poking my big nose in."

Ian nodded that he understood and slowly made his way back towards the staircase. He sat on the top step and sighed as he looked around the majestic ship. "It's funny. One day you're young, fit, and travelling in time and space, and the next you're an old man with all other kinds of responsibilities. Oh you can still get about a bit, and you can still love life, but it's different, people see you differently- being here feels different."

The Doctor ran his hands along the stair rail and then lifted up the tail ends of his jacket to sit down beside his old friend. He sat in silence for a moment or two, unsure of how to converse with a man he hadn't seen in such a long time. "I understand."

"Do you? You're not being very welcoming to me. I don't know, I thought you'd be happier to see me."

"Who says I'm not happy? I'm glad you're here Chesterton. Two old geezers in the TARDIS, isn't that what it should be from time to time, show those youngsters how it's done?"

"Yes. But this may be the last time I get to see you."

The Doctor laughed, though he hadn't meant to. "You'll be dead you mean?"

"Your manners haven't improved much," Ian said with a sting of anger in his voice. He was unsure why the man was being so abrasive when he was only opening up to him about his fears. "So, my worrying about aging and dying, that doesn't mean anything to you?"

The Doctor's eyes looked deeply into Ian's, and Ian saw a glimpse of his own Doctor, a lost and lonely traveller, abrasive, distant, vulnerable.

"I just don't look at it that way Chesterton. This is a time machine, and you have travelled in time. You're alive in future worlds, saving civilisations that haven't been created yet. Look at young Vicki, dropped her in the past, long gone by your time but she hasn't even been born. Time isn't one straight line."

Ian laughed slightly. "Time goes round and round in circles eh? Allowing you to get on or off wherever you like in the past or the future?"

"It doesn't happen once and then it's finished that's for certain."

He patted Ian on the back and let out a light contented sigh. "You perpetually exist to me, all of you. You live in the past, you live in the future, and you live in the present- you just live. I don't think about the when's and how's, I just don't think about that."

"I wish I could think like that." Ian let out a bashful smile and he hung his head low, thinking about the many adventures they'd had together. "I wish Barbara could have been here to see you again."

The Doctor's eyes widened and a horror stricken look adorned his ghostly pale face. "She's not...?" he stammered. For a moment Ian could tell that the Doctor's face contradicted everything he had just said to him. He did care about the when's and how's.

"She's fine, Doctor. I just meant she's at our home in Cambridge, and she'll be sorry to have missed you."

"Ah well, I'm sorry to have missed her too. It would have been nice to talk about the Aztecs, or Genghis Khan, or the Spanish civil war. I've got so many history stories to tell her. Actually…"

The Doctor got up quickly and darted across the TARDIS leaving Ian sitting alone for a moment. He returned a moment later holding a thick dusty book. "Here." He handed it to Ian. "A present for Barbara. It's about Alexander's last days. We were there weren't we, thought she might like to see if the books got it right?"

He winked at Ian who gratefully accepted the book. "Thank you."

The Doctor walked down the staircase. Ian got up slowly and followed his old friend back into the main space of the TARDIS interior.

"Well I suppose I should be heading back. Barbara's making me my favourite dinner tonight, she'll be cross if I don't turn up."

The Doctor turned back to face Ian and nodded.

"You could come as a guest if you like. Barbara always makes enough for any of the children of grandchildren turning up unexpectedly."

The Doctor shuffled uncomfortably. "What's she cooking?"

"Pie and mash, nothing fancy, but I love it."

"I could take you two for fish and chips on a distant alien shore. You could renew your wedding vows on the top of a flying space creature, or something else you romantic folk do. What would you say to that old Chesterton?"

"Don't tempt me," he replied. "I'll get Barbara to set another place for you just in case you fancy a home cooked meal and some old friends for company." Ian made his way toward the door. "And seeing as I perpetually exist, I expect to see you one of these days. Owning a now functional time machine means you have no excuse. Surely you can use your fast return switch with no bother now?"

"The what? Oh that thing, haven't used that in centuries, it never really worked did it?"

"Had a habit of getting stuck if I recall."

"Yes, it did."

The two old silver haired man stood facing one another awkwardly, both uncertain of how to say goodbye. Ian made the first move by sticking out his hand for the Doctor to shake but the Doctor just stared at him and didn't respond. Ian's eyes looked downward, not wanting to let on the disappointment that the old Doctor was unwilling to shake his hand. Suddenly, without warning, the Doctor's arms reached around Ian's body and tightened around his shoulders until at last they embraced. Ian could sense the Doctor wasn't entirely comfortable and so he broke away and patted him on the arm.

"I…well…thank you Doctor for showing me around your new place."

"You're welcome. And thank you for stopping by, though you did sort of barge in again. Kind of becoming a bit of a tradition isn't it?"

Ian laughed. "Well someone's got to keep an eye on you."

Ian watched as the Doctor stroked the buttons and levers on the console in the very same way he was used to seeing from his own Doctor all those years ago. It was still hard for Ian to think of them as the same man, but moments like this really made it obvious that he was the same man, through and through, until the very end.

"Goodbye Doctor," Ian said as he pulled open the door. "Safe trip."

The Doctor smiled and nodded in his direction. As the door closed and he saw Ian disappear from view, he sighed, placing his hands in his pockets and staring ahead silently at the door. "Nice seeing you Ian, so very nice."


End file.
